I...pulled in to Lynchburg,
intentionally sober. uncertain of when the show would start, I wanted to be prepared.
I smelled my life in ricks of oak, charred and simple,
the process was in my eyes. the leeching was so reminiscent of a barroom afternoon...
drip by drip, extracting the true essence from a soured mixture, useless as it was, but wanted by many
once refined
each barrel had purpose, unlike my self. wandering down the rows of Single Barrel, the top four percent of which I would never be,
I swore right then and there, I would never be corrupted again.
never would this sacred venue be tainted
in memories sure to be lost in years
and to this day, there are but two things that come between me
and the fluidity in that moment of dusty cerebral contentment....
the glass that holds my Jack
and the tears I hold back
intentionally sober. uncertain of when the show would start, I wanted to be prepared.
I smelled my life in ricks of oak, charred and simple,
the process was in my eyes. the leeching was so reminiscent of a barroom afternoon...
drip by drip, extracting the true essence from a soured mixture, useless as it was, but wanted by many
once refined
each barrel had purpose, unlike my self. wandering down the rows of Single Barrel, the top four percent of which I would never be,
I swore right then and there, I would never be corrupted again.
never would this sacred venue be tainted
in memories sure to be lost in years
and to this day, there are but two things that come between me
and the fluidity in that moment of dusty cerebral contentment....
the glass that holds my Jack
and the tears I hold back